


take a gamble in your heart (it will lead you through the dark)

by dialecstatic



Series: you are whatever a moon has always meant [3]
Category: NCT (Band), NU'EST
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Introspection, Love at First Sight, Meet-Cute, New Beginnings, Nonbinary Character, Other, kinda spoilerish i guess oopsie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 00:55:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16923555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dialecstatic/pseuds/dialecstatic
Summary: taeyong steps out into the world, and finds a piece of home





	take a gamble in your heart (it will lead you through the dark)

**Author's Note:**

> i guess you could say the recent interactions between two certain leaders have hit me hard, oops haha.
> 
> i wasnt expecting to get this done so soon but inspiration suddenly struck and i couldnt let it pass... some things just need to happen!! hope u enjoy!
> 
> title from 'waiting for my chance to come' by noah and the whale

Taeyong checks their mailbox every morning for what feels like an eternity. Surely, it will come. They've only sent their application two weeks prior, and the selection process must be long and tedious, and yet they still walk to campus with clammy hands with every new day that no letter shows up.

  
They can't remember the last time they'd waited so eagerly for something, anything, the last time they'd looked forward to something this much.  They'd found the school through extensive pamphlet reading, rummaging through the seemingly endless file case in the student body administration corridor, ignoring the judgmental looks from the secretary every time he came out of his office and found them sitting on the floor still.

  
Eventually, lost somewhere between an outdated summer camp program and a takeaway menu someone had probably found it funny to leave there, Taeyong had found what they'd been looking for. A single three-page pamphlet, like someone had forgotten it there to be found only by someone who truly needs it.

  
The building pictured on the front page looked old, older than the university, but it's the second page that caught Taeyong's eye, how it promised socially aware classes and the teaching of hands-on education and counseling methods, the foreword from the school's director announcing an intent to provide students all the tools to go into the world ready to change it.

  
It had seemed like a dream, but two clicks had proven that the school was in fact real, on the other side of the city, and Taeyong had spent a sleepless night researching more about it, printing out the application forms in the morning. Something small and deep-seeded in their heart tells them this is where they're meant to go, that maybe fate or providence had put that pamphlet there for them to find. They'd felt their hands nearly burning through the envelope as they dropped their application off at the post office, just city blocks away from its destination. Now all there was to do was wait for the good news, or so Taeyong hoped.

  
There's a little voice in their head telling them to not get worked up, to try and stay reasonable, because the possibility of a negative response is still on the table. Fortunately, Ten's voice is always louder.

  
“Nonsense.” he says, slamming his hand on the corridor's wall for emphasis, and Kun shoots him a disapproving look. “They'd be so fucking lucky to have you.”

   
Yuta sighs and loops their arm with Taeyong's, the two of them leading the way while Kun and Ten follow behind. “I can't imagine any school rejecting you.”

  
“Your application was really good, Yongie.” Kun chimes in. “There was nothing missing, you fill all the requirements, and your cover letter almost made me cry.”

  
Taeyong snorts. “That's because you wrote half of it.”

  
“Did not !” Kun sounds almost offended on Taeyong's behalf. “I helped with turns of phrase, I guess. But that's it. It all came from your heart.”

  
That, it did. Taeyong isn't sure they would have known to do it any other way. They'd needed Kun's help to put words to their feelings, to everything they'd come to realize over the past few months, and that day on the riverbank, the fire finally warming them up.  

  
“See? You're killing it.” Ten jogs past to stop Taeyong in their tracks. “It's going to be good. It's going to be everything you want, and more. Everything you deserve. And when you've made awesome new friends and completely forgotten about us, well…”

  
“Oh shut up.” Taeyong laughs in Ten's face, because they don't think there's any way they could forget these people, even if, for some reason, they tried. « As if you'd ever let me forget you. »

  
Ten grins, Cheshire-cat like, Yuta tries their best to roll their eyes even with the fondness that's taking over them, and Kun sighs, ushering all of them towards the end of the hall before the hour strikes and they're completely swarmed with people and blocking the way.

 

***

 

Taeyong's heart nearly drops to the floor and through the earth when they open their mailbox four days later. The kraft envelope is sitting there, the only thing in sight, their address in elegant handwriting across the front, a stamped seal in the corner, and Taeyong extracts it from the box, holds it to their chest for a moment.

  
It's too early to open it.

  
They have a class this morning, and then the whole day to go through, and maybe it's better to just wait until they come back home tonight, so that if the worst comes to pass, no one will be witness to their heartbreak.

  
The envelope disappears into their bag as they walk out the door, but it stays in the back of their mind even when the cold hits them.

  
  
  
It's harder to concentrate on anything anyone is saying when Taeyong's bag feels like it's on fire everytime they look at it. Maybe it's because he's always this perceptive, or maybe Taeyong really is acting more off-center than they thought they were, but Johnny doesn't fail to point it out.

  
“Okay, what's the deal today.” Johnny asks, eyebrows raised, pushing a small piece of bone to the side of his plate.

  
They're having lunch at their favorite place, squeezed in between a family of four and the wall, and Taeyong tries to hide behind their braised rib when Johnny leans back in his seat. “If you say _nothing_  I'm going to throw this at you.” Johnny picks the bone up, presents it between two fingers as he winds his arm back. “And I'll aim for the hair, don't test me.”

  
Taeyong hears themself squeal in the back of their throat, and they abandon their rib, eyes strained on Johnny to make sure he doesn't make good on his words. "Not the hair."

   
  
“Exactly.” Johnny lets the bone fall back in his plate, and he leans over the table. “What's up Yongie.”

 

It's almost unnerving how well Johnny knows them.

 

“I got a letter from that school I applied to.” Taeyong blurts out, almost despite themself. Johnny's eyebrows shoot up and his eyes go wide, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Taeyong can't figure out why he's so happy even with the letter still sealed and uncovered, but they figure Johnny's unwavering belief in every single one of his friends has got something to do with it.

  
“And ?” Johnny shakes his head, grips the edge of the table like he's holding his breath.

  
Taeyong slumps against their chair, avoids looking directly at Johnny. "I haven't opened it yet." 

  
They don't need to see Johnny's face to know what it looks like.

  
“You really have got to give yourself more credit.” he sighs, reaching over the table and the dishes to offer his hand to Taeyong. They take it, and it's as warm as it's ever been. “What happened since the river ?”

 

The day they'd finally found purpose is still etched in Taeyong's mind, how they'd sat next to the fire and it had finally lit up the way. They don't have an answer for Johnny, unsure as to where that day went, why now, of all times, so close to their goal, they're falling back into their old habits.

  
Maybe they're too used to rejection, Taeyong thinks, chuckles a little to try and brush it off. Johnny squeezes their hand. “Let's see it.”

  
There's a hopeful undertone in his voice and Taeyong clings to it for themself as they lean down to fish around in their bag. The craft paper is unmistakable beneath their fingers and when they straighten up, they're clutching the envelope to their chest, taking a deep breath.

  
Johnny says nothing. He waits and waits as Taeyong picks at the paper with their nails, little by little, until the glue comes undone and the flap lifts up, ever so slightly, and Taeyong is a millimeter away from destiny.

  
Taeyong's heart skips a proverbial beat when they reach inside the envelope. Johnny chews on his bottom lip, an elbow up on the table.

  
A hot flash creeps up Taeyong's spine as they read, going all the way to their jaw, and they try to swallow it back down even as tears start pricking at the corners of their eyes.

  
“So ?” Johnny enquires, out of breath. Taeyong hopes he hasn't been holding it all this time.

  
Taeyong slides the letter back inside the envelope, sets it on the table next to them. Their heart feels like it's beating right up in their throat, under their tongue, and it pushes the words out. “I got in.”

  
Silence falls over the both of them. Taeyong squeezes their eyes shut and feels a few stray tears running down their cheeks, drying halfway there. Johnny makes a sound like a deflating helium balloon, slouches over in his seat.

  
The suddenly, it's like all the oxygen has been injected back in the room.

  
“Fuck _yes_!” Johnny swings a fist towards the sky, forgetting himself and nearly knocking a tray out of a waiter's hands. He profusely apologizes, as much as he can in the five seconds he can last before he turns to Taeyong, his entire face lit up with happiness and pride. “I mean, I knew it, obviously.” he coughs, and Taeyong doesn't point out the way his voice almost breaks. “But fuck. You did it. Congratulations, bud. You're going to do amazing.”

  
Taeyong knows they should reply, even just to thank him, but their heart is two seconds away from spilling out of their throat, past their mouth and onto the table, it's stuck there and they just ball their fist up on their knee, try to find the center of the universe again.

  
Everything takes them back to this time, last year, when they'd been so close to dropping out right before their last year, already packing up and ready to leave their apartment, to go back home, to hole up in their childhood bedroom and never come out again.

  
It takes them back to high school, walking close to the walls and trying so desperately to slip out of view, faking doctor's notes to avoid physical education, climbing up to the last floor and hiding in the broom closet to cry, nails digging into the palms of their hands.

  
None of it remains today but the memories.

  
That's where it'll stay, Taeyong decides, right then and there. They take a deep breath, and when they lift their head again they're finally ready to smile. Johnny returns it, and the two of them just stay there for a moment, Taeyong feeling their cheeks heating up, Johnny raising his glass to them.

  
“Thank you.” Taeyong barely realizes they're saying it, their heart finally back where it belongs. “For everything. Everything.” They repeat it for emphasis, because they're not quite sure Johnny realizes exactly how much he's helped, over the years, since they met in that dusty hallway to register for their freshman classes.

  
For someone who's always telling others to give themselves credit, he sure seems to forget himself often.

  
“Don't even mention it.” Johnny quips, as if on cue. “So, what's next ?”

 

  
  
***

 

The way there crosses almost the entire city.

  
  
When they got home the day the letter arrived, Taeyong had taken the time to read it through again, and again, and again until they noticed that there were other papers in the envelope, a summary of the first year curriculum and a list of dates, with the closest one just a week and a half away. Next to it, the words ‘ _First years integration seminar_ ’ make Taeyong's blood pump a little faster, a wave of adrenaline catching in their throat.

  
Everything seemed to be moving so fast, yet the following days dragged on and on, and they all looked the same, and it felt like they were never going to end.

  
That is, until Taeyong woke up and looked at the date flashing across their phone screen, an alarm highlighted against the background picture. After a short eternity, the day had come.

  
On the train, Taeyong hugs their bag, tries to look out the window whenever the carriage resurfaces. The scenery changes every time, with each new station, the screen and sing-song voice taking them on a journey through a city they've lived in for so long and that they now realize they know so little of. When the train arrives at its destination, nearly an hour later, Taeyong starts thinking about the distance, wonders if they'll have to leave their apartment behind and move on this side of town, away from everything they know.

  
It feels almost like another world, when they walk out the station and see the people, and the shops, and find the street that leads to the school, and they realize that they could get lost so easily. These are unfamiliar streets, and Taeyong is an unfamiliar presence, but maybe those two things together can make another kind of home.

  
It's a tall, grey-brown building, and it looks older than the university, more dignified, and Taeyong holds their breath when they walk past the gate, their hand closing around their bag strap just a little tighter when they feel the security guard seizing them up.

  
There's a few groups of people moving about the yard, but Taeyong looks for a crowd, any indication of where they're supposed to go. They fish the letter out of their pocket, folded over twelve times but thankfully still legible, the name of a hall printed next to the date and time, and they look for it, eyes wildly searching for any kind of direction and then back down to the paper to make sure they have the right name.

  
Maybe they should have paid more attention to where they were going. In hindsight, Taeyong's glad they didn’t.

  
They take a few assured steps towards what they're almost sure is the right way, eyes still fixed on the paper, and then they're crashing into someone, legs giving out from under them, and they're on the ground with the other person nearly tumbling down on top of them.

  
“Oh my- fuck, I'm sorry-” Taeyong stutters, trying to get themself back to their feet and help the person back to his at the same time. “Are you ok?”

  
The stranger gets up, dusts his jeans off. “I'm good. More fear than harm.” he chuckles, and extends a hand to Taeyong, and Taeyong realizes they still haven't managed to actually get up. “You?”

  
When Taeyong takes the stranger's hand and looks up, they're met with the kindest pair of eyes they've seen all day, maybe ever, eyes that remind them of Kun's or Johnny's. That remind them of home. They're at a loss for words, for a moment, try to pretend they're just catching their breath after the collision.

  
The stranger waits, not letting go of Taeyong's hand.

  
“All fine.” Taeyong says, finally, not making any move to get their hand back. “Sorry about that, I think I'm lost.”

  
They let out a nervous laugh, reluctantly lets go of the stranger's hand when he crosses his arms over his chest, looking around the campus. “Yeah, me too actually.” the stranger says. “Special ed integration ?” he asks, a glimmer of hope in his warm eyes.

  
“The same.” Taeyong breathes out. Certainly, the universe had to have known they were going it alone, and decided to turn things around.

  
“Well, do you want to go together? Maybe we can find our way if there's two of us.” The stranger huffs, an embarrassed smile on his lips.

  
Taeyong nods, seeing some strange sort of comfort in knowing someone else is in the same situation. If they go together, surely, there's a chance they'll find at least something on the way.

  
They tap the point of their boot against the heel of their other foot, tries to put a spring in their step as they start walking again, the name of the hall finally engraved in their mind. There's an information pole just a few meters away, and  Taeyong squints to see what's written on it, tugging at the stranger's sleeve to guide him there.

  
As they walk side by side, Taeyong suddenly remembers their manners.

  
“I'm Taeyong, by the way.” they offer their hand this time, and the stranger takes it. “You ?”

  
The stranger smiles, soft and so, so earnest. “It's Jonghyun.”

 

  
***

 

  
It takes a few more minutes and weaving through throngs of upper-level students raising curious eyebrows at them, but Taeyong and Jonghyun make it to the meeting point.

  
There's a welcome slogan hanging on the wall behind a stage, and a date, the next school year's starting point, just a few short months away. Taeyong thinks they should probably start keeping track of all the important days to come, so they can measure their life in future happiness instead of past sorrow.

  
Jonghyun looks around the room with a stunned expression on his face, seemingly trying to take in all the people milling about, to guess the stories they have to tell. Taeyong can't help but do the same, posters for various clubs hanging all around the room, and their eyes look for a flag.

  
They find it sitting proudly on a table in the corner, but there's no one behind it so Taeyong resolves to wait, find them again when the seminar is finished, or even when the year starts. As long as they find them, any time is fine.

  
“Yeah, I think I'm going to like it here.” Jonhgyun says, his shoulder bumping against Taeyong's. “Ah…” he pulls his phone out of his pocket, and Taeyong suddenly remembers they promised to give news. Jonghyun snaps a picture of the hall, his attention diverted to his screen for a second as he taps away. “There. That'll placate them.”

  
The choice of words isn't lost on Taeyong. “Nagging friends?”

  
“You have no idea.” Jonghyun snorts.

  
Taeyong huffs as they reach for their own phone in their pocket, the camera silently taking a few shots of the room, with special zoomed-in attention to the table with the flag, where a few students are already gathering, waiting for whoever will welcome them in. The 'read' icon has barely appeared when messages start coming in return, from Kun first, like clockwork, and then Johnny and Yuta send a picture of themselves back, fists clenched and raised up to their chests, and Taeyong doesn't realize they're smiling at their phone until Jonghyun laughs and says, “Oh, maybe you do?”

  
“Yeah, they... They look after me.”

  
Without another word, they nod at each other, and then a high-pitched noise comes from the stage, making Taeyong wince.

  
“Or dear,” a voice says, and a black-clad figure runs on stage to detangle and readjust a few cables. “Alright?”

  
The figure nods and gives a thumbs up, and then a man that looks like a talk show host, and is dressed like a talk show host, and honestly, Taeyong isn't sure he isn't actually a talk show host, walks out on stage. He flashes the crowd of new students a blinding smile, puts his hands together and gives a small bow, just enough to catch everyone's attention.

  
It's only when all eyes are on him that he raises a hand and starts speaking. “Welcome to our future first years!” he says, and his voice sounds exactly like what Taeyong expected. “The course presentation will begin in just a few moments with the director, so I'd like to ask you all to take a seat,” he gestures at the rows of plastic chairs aligned in front of the stage. “and she will be with you shortly. We sincerely hope you all find what you're looking for here. Thank you!”

  
He slips off the stage with a certain attitude in his step, not unlike a talk show host, and reappears alongside the far wall, taking his place next to a row of other smartly-dressed people. Taeyong wonders if those are their future professors, tries to seize all of them up. They don't have time to think about it before the crowd starts moving to sit down and Jonghyun tugs at their sleeve to get seats next to each other, in the fourth row, just off-center enough to be able to feel like the world is spinning right on axis as always.

  
The general murmur of the crowd is quieted down by the sound of someone tapping on a microphone, and then they all hear heels clicking, coming closer until a woman emerges from the side of the stage and waves her hand at all of them as she walks to the center. When they look at her, Taeyong thinks they might have to present sincere apologies to Kun and Jonghyun. The woman isn't looking at anyone in particular, simply surveilling the crowd for a moment, and yet Taeyong feels like her eyes are boring into their soul, and theirs alone, with gentle warmth and unwavering belief.

  
“Well, good day everyone,” she says into the mic, her voice reverberating off the walls and Taeyong's ribcage. “I hope you've all found your way here safely.”

  
A sideways glance at Jonghyun tells the entire story, and Taeyong wonders if they have the same stunned look on their face right now. They don't think anyone would be able to blame them for it.

  
“My name is Kwon Boah, and I am the honored director of this school .”

  
Taeyong remembers seeing her name on the pamphlet, how her words had seared themselves onto their heart.

  
“Honored, because you are all here.” Mrs Kwon continues, unable to stop the smile from taking over her face, even in her solemnity. “Because every year, we have this little meeting, and I never get tired of looking at all the new faces, all the new dreams that come to us. Thank you for entrusting us with them.”

  
In a flash, Taeyong looks around the crowd and is reassured to find out they're not the only one seemingly feeling like they'd entrust their entire life to her, in this moment.

  
She speaks like a master of ceremonies, and every event, every class, sounds ever better in her mouth than it did on paper. In the corner of their eye, Taeyon can see Jonghyun, and his smile is getting wider as the minutes pass, his hands wringing nervously – or maybe excitedly – in his lap.

  
“We hope to teach you all the knowledge and skills you need to help those who need it – the young, and the lost, and everyone in between.” Mrs Kwon holds her hand over her heart. “I always feel like it bears repeating. The world will not change unless we put our hands and hearts to it.”

  
Her words remind Taeyong of so many people they know, of Kun and Ten, their minds set on the same goal but their ways so different and yet, they still manage. Better even, they succeed. They remind Taeyong of Pride, of Mr Hong's speech, said up in the air and down to the crowd, like a challenge and a promise.

  
Mrs Kwon smiles then, looking over her students, old and new. When Taeyong turns in their chair they see not only their future classmates, but also upperclassmen and faculty members, all lined up around the room, looking up at the stage too. There's intent and purpose in the way they all carry themselves, and Taeyong feels it too.

  
“Thank you very much for your attention and your interest. We hope to see you all in your best spirits when the school year starts. Please do not hesitate to visit our student organizations' booths before you leave !” Mrs Kwon finishes, and she tucks the microphone under her arm to give the crowd and her colleagues a round of applause, unprompted. She smiles even as the students disperse, and leaves the stage to meddle, high fiving the man who is definitely a talk show host on her way down.  
  
  
“Well that was fucking great.” Jonghyun beams at Taeyong, seemingly walking on air. He almost trips on the chair at the end of the row but catches himself before he thinks Taeyong's seen him, and Taeyong pretends they haven't. “I want to check out a few things, come with ?”

  
The two of them walk around the place, past the book club, and the film club, and Jonghyun takes a picture of the ornate door that, according to the sign, leads into the dining hall. Taeyong sees the flag still, and there's someone there, but they wait it out. All this will still be here when the yea r starts, and they'll know where to go.

  
Jonghyun walks past them towards the dorm organization booth, a big poster that reads « _FIND YOUR PLACE_ » attached to a corkboard behind it. “You're going to try the dorms ?”  
  
“I don't know yet ?” Taeyong shoves a hand in their jacket pocket, feels their home keys in there. “It's an hour ride from my place, not sure I'm ready to do that every day for the next few years.”

  
  
Jonghyun shakes his head. “Yeah, I get it. I'd feel kind of bad leaving my roommate alone but…” he stops in his tracks, picks up a pamphlet from the desk. “I already know he takes every chance he gets to have his partner over, so would he _really_  miss me?”

  
There's obvious humorous fondness in his voice, and Taeyong pushes themself on their tiptoes to read the pamphlet over Jonghyun's shoulder. “Shared rooms, uh.”

  
They haven't shared their space with someone new in a good long while. The idea of anyone finding out about the darker crevices of their soul is still scary, even when they've accepted them, but there's also a challenge in moving on, in letting someone in who isn't in their circle, someone who'll get to know them from now.

  
“Maybe we could..?” Jonghyun turns to look at them, and there's an air of hope in those eyes. Even if he doesn't finish the sentence, Taeyong doesn't have the heart to cut him off in his thought.

  
  
“You have some time to decide.” the man behind the desk calls, rearranging a stack of papers on the corner. He looks like what Taeyong decides a hug after an exhausting day would look like if it somehow were a person, all soft, round curves around his shoulders and face, but built like the world heavyweight champion of any and all sports. “We have rooms open for freshmen, and if you'd like to be paired up with a specific person, you can write it down in the form.” he hands each of them a paper, the most detailed form Taeyong has ever seen, looking more like a classified government paper than a roommate request.

  
The man probably notices their puzzled expression, so he points a finger at the form, down each new section. “We have a lot of students from a lot of different backgrounds and experiences, and we want to make sure everyone is comfortable, so it's important that we know if you have any specifics.” he explains it like it's the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
  
“Thank you.” Taeyong mumbles.

  
From behind the desk, the man smiles a pillowy smile. “And if you need anything, just call the number on the form and ask for Son Hyunwoo.” he points a finger at his own chest. “That's me, by the way. I'm the TA in charge of dorms.”

  
I definitely will, Taeyong thinks. If someone like Hyunwoo is going to be there, living just a few doors away, maybe the idea of leaving their nest behind isn't so bad.

  
And if Jonghyun is there too, it'll feel more like a new start than any kind of end. Something about him feels right, somehow, even when Taeyong only knows his name, and they want to know everything else, to start the new chapter of their life with a new friend in tow.

  
They can already hear Ten's pointed remarks, his ' _I told you so_ ', and see the smile that tells Taeyong he doesn’t mean any of it. Some things will never change, and Taeyong is thankful for all of them.

  
“You'll still be there next year, yeah ?” Jonghyun asks, folding the form in two to keep his hands busy. Taeyong knows the gesture well.

  
Hyunwoo nods, places his hands on his hips. “Yep ! It'll be my last year.” His voice is almost nostalgic already. “I'm actually looking for roommates, mine are graduating.”

  
At their side, Taeyong hears Jonghyun let out a soft 'oh' and feels him brushing against them as he leans closer to the table, picks up a few other informative papers. Hyunwoo watches him go about his business, a satisfied smile on his lips and his arms crossed over his chest, like a softball coach after putting a new team together.

  
“Don't mind me, and sorry if this sounds weird but,” Jonghyun says, hands full of pamphlets. “You actually remind me a lot of my current roommate.”

  
He shoves the stack of papers in his bag, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and Hyunwoo tilts his head to the side. “I've been told I'm very personable,” he says. “So if you want to request me, just put my name on the form. I'm sure we'll find a third in no time.”

  
  
Hyunwoo's gaze finds Taeyong and pins them in place, though Taeyong isn't sure he had any intention to. They look down at the form in their hand, at the roommate request section, and the 'Specifics' one right under it. Maybe they'll gather up the courage to write it down, or even to ask, if the time and the people are right. Looking at Jonghyun and Hyunwoo, they have a good feeling.

 

  
  
***

 

They leave as the sun begins to set outside, earlier than yesterday, winter truly taking a hold of their corner of the world.

  
Walking back out the gate makes Taeyong just as nervous as walking in had, because they still wonder how they'll feel when they come back for the real thing. Just a few months to go, some formalities to sort out. They left their phone number with Hyunwoo, along with Jonghyun's, and an unspoken promise to put all three of their names on the same door one day.

  
“Leaving so soon ?” Jonghyun calls after them as they walk back the way they came, to the subway station.

  
Taeyong stops in their tracks. « I don't have to. » They turn on their heels, find Jonghyun leaning against the side of a building.

  
“Want to get coffee? Or tea, or hot chocolate, or,” he looks at his watch. “A vodka tonic?”

  
Taeyong bursts out laughing, and they take a few steps to meet him again. “Coffee is good .”

 

  
There's no shortage of small, seemingly trendy coffee shops around campus. They settle on a homely place stuck between a convenience store and a locksmith, with worn brown leather seats around hardwood tables. It looks like a grandmother's living room, and almost smells like one too, but the coffee comes with a heap of foam and the slice of cake they decide to share is decidedly homemade, so Taeyong can at least justify the rest.    
  
  
  
“So, what about that roommate of yours ?” Taeyong lets their curiosity get the better of them.

  
Jonghyun stirs his coffee, a grin forming on his face. “Ah, yeah. It's kind of a long story.” he turns his phone over and unlocks it, pictures unfolding on the screen before he settles on one. “Here, this is him.”

  
When they look at the picture, Taeyong understands the comparison to Hyunwoo.

 

It's Jonghyun in what looks like a gym, and next to him is another man that looks about twice his size, all muscles and sharp edges, but with a smile that reaches his eyes and burns through the screen.  

  
  
“That's Dongho.” Jonghyun says cheerfully, scrolling to another picture that shows the two in a gym mirror, and Taeyong wonders if they're among these guys who spend all their lives there. “We met in our first year-”

  
  
“At the gym ?” Taeyong quips, laughter bubbling at the back of their throat at Jonghyun's expression.

  
He puts his phone down, takes a long sip of his coffee. “Yes. At the gym. How did you know?”

  
“Just an inkling.” Taeyong smirks, leans back in their seat when Jonghyun scrunches up his nose and sticks his tongue out. “He looks nice. Big.” What? “I mean, really nice.”

  
Jonghyun sighs. “Yeah. That was kind of the first thing I noticed.” he looks into the distance over Taeyong's shoulder, seemingly lost in thought. “I even fell off the damn treadmill. Long story.” Jonghyun raises his eyebrows at himself, takes another sip before Taeyong can ask any questions.

  
Maybe it's not the time for that, either way. They'll have whole years to tell each other the stories of their lives, and their friends, and everything in between. They hold their cup with both hands, let it warm them up, even though Jonghyun's smile has already taken them halfway there.

  
“We're both going to be far from home.” Taeyong says, fully aware of the exaggeration. An hour isn't so much, in hindsight, and yet it seems like the other side of the world, when all Taeyong has known for the past four years is campus, and the streets around their apartment, and the main arteries in the heart of the city, where they'd used the soles of their shoes and set their own heart on fire, their companions by their side.

  
An hour away and they're here, in an unfamiliar coffee shop with a man they barely know, and it feels like a whole other side of life is unfolding in front of them.

  
Jonghyun takes a breath and holds it in for a moment. “We don't have to be, though.” he exhales, scratches the back of his head. “I'm sorry, I know this is invasive, maybe, or I hope not, but I couldn't help but notice the pin, on your bag, and-”

  
“Wait.” Taeyong gulps. They're so used to wearing it around campus, and around their friends, where everyone knows them, that they almost forgot the militant symbol pinned to their bag strap, for everyone to see.

  
They didn't expect anyone out there to know what it means either. “...You too?”

  
“Is it weird that I was almost hoping this would happen?” Jonghyun's expression is stuck between acknowledgment and sadness. “That I'd run into someone else…”

  
“No. Me too.” Taeyong laughs it out, not even meaning to, just because they can feel relief washing over their entire being. “This... my friend gave that to me.” They reach down to grab their bag, thumb smoothing over the pin. Ten had put it there himself, after their first Pride together. ' _For protection_ _'_ he'd said, a hand squeezing Taeyong's shoulder.

  
Distance isn't ever going to change that. As long as Taeyong has a piece of home with them, then home can be anywhere they set their heart to.

  
Jonghyun nods, slowly, looking down inside his empty cup. “Can always use a friend, right?”

 

His voice is softer than it’s been all day, quiet and raw, and Taeyong wants to wrap him in their arms and hold him there, for as long as he needs. This is going to be hard for both of them, but Taeyong reasons that if they’re together at least, they can make it.

 

“Dongho’s always been there for me, through… All of it.” Jonghyun smiles, small and melancholic. “I’m still not sure what I’m going to do when he’s not here every morning to remind me that I can just be.”

 

Taeyong doesn’t even think before they say, “You’ll have me.”

 

They’ve barely known Jonghyun for a few hours, half a day that kicked the rest of their lives into motion, but they’re determined to take that step.

 

Jonghyun lifts his head and looks at them, eyes shiny with hope and trust and maybe tears, too, but if there are any he stops them from running their course. There’s a galaxy of stars out there for both of them to explore, and Taeyong finds so many of them in Jonghyun’s eyes, and they’re determined to keep them there, even if it takes opening up their own heart to do it.

 

What it all means, Taeyong isn’t sure yet. But when they reach across the table to take Jonghyun’s hand, they take a few seconds to feel the rugged edges and the lines of his palm, and they think maybe, with a little help from each other, they can call all of it home.

**Author's Note:**

> that's a wrap for this one!
> 
> thank you so much to kay for kicking my jongyong obsession into high gear, and helping come up with some backstory and plot for this!!
> 
> after this one i'm going to redirect all my attention to the nct secret santa, until the 22nd of december, and then the verse will be back~ i have a lot of ideas i want to write out so please look forward to them!
> 
> ill be on [twitter](http://twitter.com/seoyoungoth) the whole time, come say hi ^3^!


End file.
